


Miscellanea

by i_gaze_at_scully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drabble Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21537091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_gaze_at_scully/pseuds/i_gaze_at_scully
Summary: I frequently ask for drabble prompts or just write unrelated one shot drabbles so instead of posting them all separately, they will go here. They can be read in any order and have nothing to do with each other. Ratings change per fic, check the chapter notes.
Kudos: 10





	1. Lights Out

_It starts with a blackout and ends with a broken heart._

The elevator won’t budge, suspended and stubborn, temperature climbing. Mulder loosens his tie.

An hour passes, maybe more, as they rationalize their fears away and hang their hopes on the night crew. They sit thigh to thigh, waiting for the world to end, whether with a bang or a whimper.

She rests her head on his shoulder and drinks in the silence, the absence of machinery. His hand rests over hers.

“If we die…”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

“You should know, I really do–”

“I said shut up, Mulder.”

“…Okay.”


	2. Frail

Ounce for ounce, bone is stronger than steel. Bone is brawn, hollow but holy, protecting the vital marrow within. It takes enormous force to stress bone enough to fracture it. Enormous force, or the right angle of attack.

Fox Mulder sits besides his partner’s hospital bed, counting all the bones he can find in her hand. It isn’t hard with how thin she’s gotten. If she were awake, she could name them for him. When she wakes, he’ll ask. For now, he’ll swipe his thumb across her knuckles lightly, so as not to wake her. So as not to break.


	3. Cursed

Dark shadows dance on even darker walls, walls that wrap them up in a too-tight embrace. Both hearts beat apoplectically, synchronously.

“Go on,” he whispers, his voice tight, hoarse, dangerously low. “Touch it." 

Her breathing is shallow, taken in as though through a straw, but steady. Her hand, hovering, quivers. Gives her away. 

"Are you sure about this?” She asks. “I just…”

His sharp exhale sends dust aflutter. Specks land in her hair, his eyebrows, the ridge of her lip.

“Please,” he begs. “I have to know.”

Trembling, she reaches gently for the amulet. It glows, burns, extinguishes. She collapses. 


	4. Dessert

“Oreos? I never knew you liked Oreos, Scully.”

“Humor me,” she lulls. She drains her glass and pulls him by the hand to the door.

Harris Teeter is abandoned, but Mulder still doesn’t expect Scully to beckon him into the dead end snack aisle with that mischievous grin.

“Our secret,” she whispers, ripping open the package of Oreos and balancing one between her teeth. Pulling him close to her by the hips, she tilts her chin up, stretches on her toes till he takes the Oreo in his lips.

Oreos were good, but the dessert at home was even better.


	5. Spark

When he first met her, the fire in her eyes didn’t match her hair. It was more muted then. Maybe she used to dye it to temper her brilliance. Horrible as that would be, for Scully to be tempered in any way. Infinitely worse, for her flame to go out entirely.

It used to be softer, he remembers. Framing her face in gentle waves, soft to the touch. Now, in her hospital bed, brilliant red fading to brittle sand, her hair feels foreign under his fingers. He strokes it as she sleeps, willing his tears not to quell her spark.


	6. Unraveled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly NSFW

There. _There_. The hitch in his breath, the way his knee twitches. She loves the way he tries to savor this. The way his hips churn at slow intervals before he catches himself and stills. How he takes breaks from her eyes - and oh, she’s perfected the eyes - to calm himself. The tension of it all drives her crazy, her fingers flitting over her nipples, her clit. His restraint is admirable, but he’s no match for her in the end. More satisfying than his beautiful struggle is pulling the final thread to see him unravel. It is victory, submission, sublime.


	7. What happens in California

Scully won’t let it count until there’s no duress. Until their hands are clasped in joy, in tentative hope and promise. No blood, no danger, no death. They’ve never been conventional–Mulder has her writhing beneath him rewriting scripture before he ever holds her hand, and she prefers it that way. The act always seemed juvenile to her, more a display of possession than intimacy. But the rules are different here in California, where the dead and living alike seek comfort and love. Where the wide boulevards accommodate lovers like the streets of DC never could. Here, she holds his hand.


	8. Fly higher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily lives AU

Scully’s heart breaks when her daughter cries out, inconsolably sobbing in the backyard.

“Emily!” She sprints to the corner of the yard where the trees get thick. “It’s okay, baby, I’m here. What’s wrong?”

“Mommy,” she whines. “Is it…. Is it dead, mommy? Is the birdy dead?” She covers her eyes with tiny, dirt stained hands, and Scully looks down at the carcass. She sits besides Emily, pulls her hands away from her face.

“Everything dies one day, sweetie. But all birds fly higher in heaven.”

They throw Birdy a funeral and Emily zips around the yard on imaginary wings.


	9. Cranky

“No one else I know wears matching sleepwear.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Mulder pulls her over to him on the bed, seated behind her.

“It’s simultaneously the sexiest and sweetest thing I know. Just like you.” Despite herself, Scully hums. Mulder rests his lips on her neck, pressing small kisses between words spoken into her skin.

“I mean it, Scully. I love that about you.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m cranky.”

“Not true,” he insists, tightening his embrace. “I love you, cranky or not.”

For the first time all day, she smiles.


	10. It's love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW for language and some sexy times

They’ve fucked. Hard and heavy, rough the way she likes it (and is beginning to suspect he likes it too). They’ve taken their frustration out on each other, they’ve quelled fears and affirmed life. But this time, this time is different. Her back rests comfortably on the mattress instead of straining, bent over a counter. Instead of taking her hair in closed fists, his open palms caress her cheek. When he moves inside her, slowly, gently, sweetly, she takes in ragged breaths, overcome with an emotion she’s not sure she has ever experienced. They make love, and she feels it.


	11. Before, During, After

“This one’s yours,” he says, holding her to go cup out when they exit the car. “Lipstick mark gives it away.” The corners of her mouth herald the color in her cheeks.

“This one’s yours,” he says, handing her the mug from his cabinet. “Your lipstick won’t come out in the wash.” She pulls her naked lip between her teeth, snorts a non-apology. He doesn’t mind.

“This one’s yours,” he insists, but she shakes her head. “It was yours before…” He nods solemnly, replacing the mug he’ll never use again. Maybe one day, she’ll come back and stain it anew.


	12. Deluge

The words stumble out of his mouth, irrevocable and thunderous in the quiet of her apartment. The ensuing silence inundates him; he feels it in his throat, water rising to his ears, stinging his eyes.

“Mulder…” she whispers, pain streaking each syllable. “You’re… you’re my best friend and I…”

Of all the pieces comprising him, she is the clinch pin. He shatters, but his feet are glued in place. _Run_ , he begs them. But he’s frozen, staring into the tender, loveless blue until she blinks.

In the space of that moment, Mulder bolts upright, clutching at the 150 thread sheets.


	13. Not sick

“Not sick,” she mumbles. “Go hobe.”

“Mhm.” He breaks out the big guns - the oversized fluffy blanket in her closet - and brings her saltines. “These will help. You told me to eat these when I was sick, so technically, doctor’s orders.” In close proximity he leaves the tissues, medicine, and water.

Before he leaves, he presses a tiny kiss to the top of her head. “Get well soon,” he says. She shudders and erupts into a coughing fit.

“Maybe I’ll stay a little longer.” She groans, buries her head in the blanket. But, in a small, muffled voice - _thanks, Mul’er._


End file.
